Snapshot Moments
by CaitlinOonagh95
Summary: Special Moments between George and Hermione
1. Chapter 1

**A series of one-shots based on George and Hermione.**

**I know Those Weasley Ears was a fail, but I hope this makes up for it. :)**

**Enjoy!**

**The Day George Realised**

"Bloody toad, how does she get away with it?" Fred muttered angrily, clutching his right hand in his left, "It's child abuse! Even though we're technically men now, its only a few weeks until we are of age! I say on our birthday we pull the ultimate April Fool's joke on her Georgie, make her really regret singing Ministerial Degree Number Eleven Million and One.."

George chuckled to himself, despite the pain he too felt in his right hand and the bitterness that was raging through his system at the 'bloody toad' who's room they had just left. They had recently finished developing their Smart-answer quills, and though there was no better person to test them on than dear old Dolores. She had set their class the task of writing a six-foot essay on a dark creature, to which their quills invented a monster similar in appearance to the beloved woman, right down to the girlish "ahem" that interrupted everyone and alerted her presence. And so now the twins' hands were forever scared with the phrase "I shall not waste my ability on unimaginative inventions". But it was worth it, definitely.

George looked over at his brother who was somewhat distracted, a dreamy look having overcame his face. He was either developing this 'ultimate' April Fool's joke, or dreaming over his girlfriend, Angelina. George reasoned and thought the former of the two was the least likely, the twins' best work happened when the two of them simultaneously thought of the same plan, not due to one twin's careful consideration. So he had to be thinking of Angelina.

"Oi, lover-boy! Get a move on, I want to find Hermione before she pops off to bed, see if she has any of that Murtlap left." Fred's features moulded into a grimace, clearly remembering the smell of the foul substance that Hermione had brewed for Harry when he served a detention for Umbridge, and which had been given to the twins when they suffered the same pain. Amazingly, the stuff worked wonders, stopping the pain almost immediatley.

Not that George doubted Hermione in any way, he knew that whatever she brewed would work. It was the smell that clouded doubt in his mind. As his mother always said, "If it tastes bad, then it must be good for you!" George shuddered at the thought of tasting the horrid liquid. Fred cocked an eyebrow at his brother's spasm, questioning him silently. George shook his head, telling his brother he didn't want to know.

As the boys approached the Gryffindor Common Room, Professor McGonagall emerged from behind the portrait of the Fat Lady, bidding her goodnight as she passed. The elderly witch had been talking to Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley regarding their prefect duties, reminding them that should any first years attempt to purchase Skiving Snackboxes from the Weasley twins then they should report it to her. As she turned to begin her patrol, she came face to face with the young wizards themselves. She was about to chastise the twins when she saw their hands.

"Evening Professor!" The boys greeted happily. Whilst McGonagall was strict, they knew she had a soft spot for them, and would go out of her way to help them should they need it. She looked pointedly at each of the twins' hands, before pursing her lips and holding out a hand of her own, demanding that they allow her to inspect theirs. "She's evil Professor, worse than old Voldy-mort." Fred muttered bitterly, earning a smirk from their head of house.

"I suggest you go to your bed, Mr and Mr Weasley. I shall tell Dumbledore of this, but please, enough trouble. It's bad enough that Madame Pomfrey is overwhelmed with first year's bleeding noses and projectile vomiting." She looked at the twins sternly. "Imagine if Professor Umbridge were to fall at the mercy of one of your inventions.. " She eyed George with a sly look. Knowing that April's Fools day was close, there was sure to be an almighty joke pulled, considering the twins were coming of age. And she knew their target. "Goodnight, gentlemen." She called as she walked away.

"Goodnight Professor," The boys called as they climbed through the portrait door. "Wonder what she was suggesting, eh Georgie?" Fred laughed, bounding over to Angelina who was about to make her way up to the girls' dormitory. The common room was almost empty, bar a few stragglers in the twins' year and Hermione, who was scribbling furiously on a piece of parchment in the corner of the room. "Oi, George! I'm going to bed, bring up the Murtlap when you're coming yeah?" Fred shouted from across the room, leading his girlfriend up the stairs. George shook his head, praying to Merlin that they remembered the silencing charms this time. He shuddered involuntarily.

The few people in his year waved in greeting before heading up the stairs themselves, leaving him alone with Hermione. She had been Ron's best friend for four years, but it was only in the last year did George truly notice her. And he was ashamed to admit that, even to himself. They had spent a sizeable amount of their summer together, and George had grown quite fond of the bushy haired brunette.

He even found that she was quite funny and had a mischievous side, even if she didn't show it. Fred and George had planned a surprise spider attack on Ron, making one appear every so often in front of him. Whilst Hermione was against it at first, she soon saw the funny side after Ron squealed quite a few times and joined in herself, making the spiders tap dance and cartwheel. Ever since then, George made a conscious decision to make the girl his friend.

"Hey Mione," George called softly as he approached the girl. He knew Hermione loved it when he called her this, something only he and Ginny called her. She lifted her head, a dazed look in her eyes and focused on the red head in front of her, "You wouldn't have any of the Murtlap left? Or did Lee use it all last night?" George asked softly, suddenly aware of how tired the young girl looked.

"Oh I'm sorry George, I spilled it earlier on when I was putting it back into my cupboard and I couldn't recover it. I'm sorry," She apologised profusely, and George could have sworn he saw tears form in the girl's eyes. His heart lurched, pounding to a rhythm that sat uncomfortably with him. He wasn't good with anyone crying, let alone girls crying. He reached out when he saw a bead of moisture spill over and trail down the girl's cheek, wishing her could do something to stop this.

"Hey hey Mione, what's wrong? Come here," He took the girl in his arms, feeling her begin to shake as the tears overwhelmed her. "What's got my little bookworm into such despair?" She shook her head from its position in the crook of his neck, the scent of her hair beginning to intoxicate him. _My bookworm? _He thought. Shrugging mentally, he continued to talk to her, "One must cheer-eth the pretty-eth lady up-eth!" he took her by the hands and twirled her around the room, leading her in a flambouyant series of steps that involved him kicking wilding into the air and dipping the girl to the floor.

Soon, he heard peals of laughter escape from the girl, and his heart fluttered at the sound. He looked into her eyes and she looked back with such a fierce intensity George almost kissed her there and then. He hugged the girl once more, trying to distract himself from her full lips and glimmering eyes. "Right you, off to bed!" He said cheerfully, his voice catching a little as he spoke, his heart still not calm. He watched as she gathered her books and walked up the steps, turning to wave and wish him goodnight. He returned the sentiment and stood where he was, the sudden realisation freezing him on the spot.

He fancied Hermione Granger.


	2. Chapter 2

**The Sketchbook**

"DADDY! DADDY COME HERE!"

The shout of the young girl sent shivers down George Wesley's spine and he quickly raced to find her. His wife had taken their three year old son Rory to Harry's house so he could play with Teddy, and had gone shopping with her sister-in-law. This left him alone to look after their five year old daughter, Madeleine. The young girl in question was supposed to be taking a nap, and George had gone downstairs to the workshop that lay beneath their house in Ottery St Catchpole to work on his latest invention.

After the war, it had taken George almost four years to work up the nerve to reinvent products. He hadn't the heart to carry on working when half of him had been cruelly torn away. He had asked Lee Jordan to overtake the running of WWW, and he had done so very successfully during George's absence. It wasn't until he realised he and his wife were expecting their first child that he could be happy again.

In his lowest days, he had turned to fire-whiskey, the only thing that would numb the tearing pain in his heart. And then she came along and like a whirlwind she turned his world upside down again, helping him see through the haze that had covered his eyes for months. She had held his hand, wiping away his tears time and time again as he wept into her arms, mourning his lost brother. She made sure he had a reason to get up in the mornings, that he lived on like his brother wanted him too. She had made him fall in love with her.

As George followed the sound of his daughter voice, he found her sitting on his bed, her short legs dangling off the edge of the high mattress with her pink Holly the Hippogriph blanket wrapped around her in a cocoon. Upon hearing his arrival, she looked up at her father and smiled his smile. George laughed gently to himself at the sight. The young girl was so like him it was terrifying at times, like a ghost of Fred re-embodying himself in Maddy. "Daddy, what's this?" She chirped inquisitively. She was also freakishly like her mother, using the exact same tone of voice when she asked a question.

George came over to sit beside her, lifting her up so she was sat on his knee. Her straight brown hair tickled his face, the ends of it curling slightly under his chin as she cuddled in against her father. She was the polar opposite of her brother aesthetically. Whilst she had brown, slightly wavy hair, her brother possessed the fiery Weasley hair, and his mother's mass of curls. They both had her eyes, and her intelligence, though Maddy had George's smile and Rory his mother's. They also had a devilish streak, though that could have been inherited from either parent.

George looked down at the book his child was holding, noticing straight away the drawing on the page. "Ahh I remember this! This was the sketchbook Uncle Freddy and I used in Hogwarts, when we were drawing the packaging for our products. Thought it soon turned into my sketchbook.." George tailed off, knowing that his daughter understood. She may only be five, but she had her mother's brains, and was smart enough to understand things with such emotional ties.

"Then Daddy, who's this lady?" The young girl pointed to a sketch of a woman tenderly holding her stomach. Though no bump was evident, it was clear the woman had recently discovered she was to become a mother. Her head was bent though, her hair hiding her face from view.

"That's your mummy, love. I drew this when we found out that you were in her tummy. And I drew one when we found out Rory was in her tummy too. Look," He said as he flicked the pages until he found the one he was looking for. "This sketchbook is full of the things I love. Your Uncle Freddy lives in this book, and you, Rory and Mummy will always be in it too, just like my heart."

After a while, Maddy grew weary, and soon was fast asleep on her father's lap. He stood up and carried her to her own bed, settling her down as she was carried away to the magical land of her dreams. "I love you, Maddy." He said gently as he kissed her forehead.

"You love me more, right?" Hermione's voice carried from the doorway, greeting her husband as she returned from her day out.

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	3. Chapter 3

**Guys are any of you reading this fic on the android or apple app? I put all my stories onto my phone just to make sure they update properly and this particular fic isn't working for me, just if you could let me know if you have any problems and I'll try to fix them!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Three**

Hermione Granger was at a loss. The newly appointed Head of the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, for once, did not know what to do. She scoured her brains trying to find a solution, spending hours consulting her numerous bookcases of books to find a charm or a spell to remedy the near pandemic conditions arising. Her hair had gotten noticeably frizzier and wilder as time wore on and as her stress levels rose. What would Kingsley think of her, not even being able to handle a situation as novel as this?

She had received a letter this morning from an anonymous source warning her of a stampede of pygmy puffs swarming their way through Diagon Alley, and rapidly multiplying every time someone touched them. It wasn't a Gemino charm, as someone in the Alley had had the sense to check. But she knew pygmy puffs bred like rabbits, and that they could double themselves at will, and if their owner had charmed them to do so.. Of course!

She was going to kill the Weasley twins. Why hadn't she considered this before! Of course Fred and George would think it funny to cause such mayhem, and forget to provide a remedy for. Grabbing her wand and her handbag, she concentrated fiercely on the colourful shop in the middle of the wizarding street and with a loud crack, she was gone.

As she reappeared in the busy street, she assessed the situation before her. It had gotten significantly worse since she had been there this morning, when only one hundred or so of the fluffy creatures were hopping about the cobbled street. Now, hordes of them were swarming around her feet, and piling into shops and crevices at every chance they got; some of the newer, frustrated shopkeepers chasing them out and the older shopkeepers, who had been here when the twins first opened shop, laughing heartily at the sight. Sighing heavily, she marched towards the joke shop ahead of her, her anger growing as she saw more and more pygmy puffs.

Lee Jordan had been working flat out all morning, helping out behind the till and catching any stray pygmy puffs running around the shop. After he caught a particularly hyperactive creature, he caught sight of the very angry looking head of Department storming towards the shop. "Oi! Weasley! Granger's on her way in here, and she doesn't look one bit happy. I think she's caught on mate!"

A red-headed male's head jerked up at this announcement, calling Lee to come over to him to overtake his current task; helping a small child pick out a birthday present for his sister. "Lee mate, cheers for the warning," He said darkly, dreading the oncoming tirade he was soon to receive from the curly-haired brunette.

He had always held a soft spot for said brunette, always trying to find out more about her, involve her in conversations. But she had been so busy as of late, with her promotion and such. She lived in The Burrow still, and he and his twin would pop over every other night to spend time with the family, but he still missed her. And now his plan was working, and she was going to shout at him, just like he predicted..

"GEORGE WEASLEY! WHAT HAVE YOU DONE! DO YOU UNDERSTAND THE REPERCUSSIONS THIS COULD HAVE FOR ME!" And she was off on one, as soon as she stepped foot in the store. Every customer stopped what they were doing momentarily but soon got back to their shopping when they saw who it was. "BLOODY PYGMY PUFFS EVERYWHERE, GEORGE, EVERYWHERE! YOU FIX THIS RIGHT NOW OR SO HELP ME I'LL TELL MOLLY!" George loved how she could tell the twins apart by eye, it made him seem important to her. Like she made a point of making them their own person, and that she had looked at him long enough to determine the differences.

"Calm down, 'Mione, know need to get your wand in a twist," he replied teasingly, approaching the slightly less angry witch. She always melted a little inside when he called her Mione, even though Harry and Ron did too. It was different when George did it, and he knew it. "All you have to do to break the charm is simply kiss one of the casters. It's our newest product," He told her, a smug smile on his lips.

Typical, she thought. Of course it would be a new product, and of course it would result in some lip action. "Alright, fine!" She huffed, rushing over to peck George on the cheek, "Now how long will this take to stop?" She asked impatiently, her hands on her hips.

"Oh no Mione, a full smooch, right on the lips. And since I'm the better looking of Fred and I, I'd recommend you kiss me," He winked at her, causing her eyes to narrow. She had fancied the pants of George for ages, since her fourth year at Hogwarts. She sighed in resignation, and stood on her tiptoes to reach up and kiss George Weasley, something she's been dreaming of doing for years, just to save her reputation.

But of course, George took full advantage of the situation, dipping Hermione in his arms and making a show of the event to all his customers, earning catcalls and wolf whistles all round. A very red Hermione pulled back and watched as the numerous pygmy puffs dotted around the store and crowding in the Alley poof away into nothingness, before running out of the store with a hurried "goodbye" and "bloody git". George simply stood their smiling, thrilled his plan worked.

When Hermione returned to her office that evening to collect the mountain of paper work caused by the fiasco to take home with her, a small parcel was sitting on her desk. She opened it whilst reading the note attached to it.

"Mione,

Couldn't resist, you bloody gorgeous witch.

George xx"

The box under her hand shook slightly, and she hurried to open it.

Of course, inside was a pygmy puff. With a grin, she lifted the fluffy animal and apparated to the flat above the shop to finish giving George a piece of her mind.

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	4. Chapter 4

**This one came to me in a dream. (Don't judge, I'm on medication at the minute that gives me weird-ass dreams.)**

**Hope you like :-)**

**Chapter Four**

George Weasley was in the hospital wing for the third time that year. It was an unwanted visit but he and his twin came to the conclusion that visits to the hospital wing were simply occupational hazards, and if his products hurt him enough to warrant medical help, so be it.

Particularly as they were in the middle of developing their Skiving Snackboxes.

On the first occasion, it was the Puking Pastilles, leaving them both severely dehydrated and unable to eat, which for a Weasley is an unthinkable experience.

The second time was the result of a nasty bang to the head that he had received when he tested a Fainting Fancy. They had made them too effective and he dropped to the ground before he could clear the space. He nearly hexed his twin when he came to in a hospital bed with an ugly bruise down the side of his face, being the better looking twin he had witches to woo.

And currently, he was suffering from moderate blood loss and anaemia, due to an overdose of Nosebleed Nougat; leaving him in the overnight care of one Madame Pomfrey.

He flinched as she approached him once more with the frighteningly sharp needle, coming to extract a further blood sample. She had been doing this on a two-hourly basis since she forced a foul smelling and even worse tasting potion down his throat the previous evening.

George Weasley was anything but squeamish. He had a stomach of steel, attributed to growing up as one of the middle children in a family of six boys in the rural English countryside. But there was something about blood that left him uneasy. Blood belonged inside your body, not in a syringe. He clenched his fist and braved the sharp scratch in his arm, allowing his thoughts to roam as a distraction.

Fred had been to check on him the previous evening after wolfing down his dinner. He had stayed a while before rushing off, telling his twin he needed to find Angelina so he could get "some help with his Charms essay." They had been dancing around the subject of dating, sharing a few snogs here and there, and George wished they would just get together officially.

He wondered why his youngest brother hadn't visited him yet. Countless times prior to the present day George had visited Ron as he lay in this very ward after getting into some degree of trouble, generally with Harry and Hermione.

Hermione Granger.

George had always held a soft spot for the bushy haired witch, especially as she had always visited him during his previous spells in the hospital wing. She was different from every other girl George knew. She was loving, honest and in George's opinion, beautiful, though she could not see it herself. She was much more aware of things going on around her that her appearance or what boys could she try to impress. The truth of the matter was, she impressed George without even knowing it.

But George also knew there was something very different about Hermione, something Harry nor Ron, nor Ginny for that matter knew.

Hermione Granger was obsessed with hygiene, in particular the cleanliness of her hands.

He would catch her in the act; first she would furtively glance to make sure no-one was watching her, then she would silently whisper "Scourgify" whilst aiming at her hands, sifting away the imaginary dirt she saw. Sometimes he even saw her with a bottle of muggle hand-wash, that she rubbed into her hands and didn't need washing off. Muggle magic, he laughed to himself darkly.

It worried him when he saw her do it. On one of the rare occasions when he listened in his Muggle Studies class, he heard about a Muggle condition, OCG..OCB? Something like that, where an individual would perform a ritual almost, to an extreme. He thought to himself that day that he would help his Hermione through any battle she faced if she had this OC-thing. But how would he know?

Wait, he thought to himself, my Hermione? Since when did that happen? And why hadn't she come to visit him yet?

He pushed the thoughts from his mind as he heard Madame Pomfrey's quick paced footsteps on the marble floor, approaching him to tell him he could leave and and to ensure he ate something that evening.

He looked out of the window as he walked along the corridor that would lead him to the secret passageway up to the seventh floor. He had spent most of the day pondering over things. Inventions, improvements, and Hermione. Something was nagging in the back of his mind that something was wrong.

He needed to see her, to know the bossy prefect was okay. He hurried along to the Common Room, uttering the password as his nerves intensified.

It was Sunday, her reading day. He scanned the expansive area, looking for the brunette but failing to see her. He did catch sight of his younger siblings though, engaged in a game of chess. He asked did they know where their friend was.

The bathroom, Ginny had told him. She had gone to wash her hair. Though George knew better.

Forgetting his instructions to eat, he hurried to the sixth floor, hoping that she had indeed gone to the prefects' bathroom and not the generic ladies. On approach to the bathroom, he could hear water running, accompanied by a soft whimpering. He pushed open the door, heartbroken at the sight before him.

A haggard, sixteen year old witch with her hair scraped back and her sleeves rolled up, scrubbing ferociously at her hands, stripping back the skin on her hands in an attempt to get rid of the invisible dirt only she could see.

He approached as quietly as he could before enveloping her in his arms, gently releasing the well worn down bar of soap from her clenched fist.

In that moment, all her anguish and pain subsided, his warm embrace calming her as she raised her hands and the words escaped her lips.. "I'm not clean. A filthy Mudblood. Everything I touch is tainted, so I must clean my hands."

And with that his heart was broken. He turned her around to face him, gently bringing her hands to his lips and softly kissing them before gently coaxing her to the hospital wing.

George Wealsey was in the hospital wing for the fourth time that year. It was an unwanted visit, but he came to the conclusion that if it meant he could help the girl he loved, then so be it.

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	5. Chapter 5

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**Chapter Five**

It was half four in the morning and Hermione couldn't sleep. Truthfully, she had not sleep peacefully since her sixth year in Hogwarts. Every night of the last year she had spent fitfully lying in her bed, pushing away the nightmares that plagued her. First, the nightmares consisted of Voldemort finding them, killing Harry. Then, she had nightmares of Voldemort finding and killing her family, both her parents and the Weasleys, for they too were her family. Now, she had nightmares of Bellatrix, torturing her until she could breathe no more, carving the word "Mudblood" into her skin thousands of times over.

Waking up in a sweat, she calmed her pounding heart and hoped she hadn't woken Ginny, for it was her wedding day and the bride-to-be needed her sleep. She grabbed her wand and pulled on a pair of socks and an old sweatshirt she had found in Ron's room, before she padded down the stairs, hoping not to wake anyone. It was unusually cold in the Burrow, she realised as she reached the ground level of the towering house and stepped onto the stone kitchen floor. It was the first week of December, and Mrs Weasley generally left an everlasting fire in the hearth overnight to keep the kitchen and living room warm, should one of her many children come downstairs. Shivering slightly, she walked over to the hearth and muttered an incantation, resulting in blue flames erupting from her wand.

It was too early for sunrise, but the moon was still shining, casting an ethereal glow on the land outside the Burrow. It was raining outside, something she hadn't noticed until now. She also hadn't noticed the figure sitting on the windowsill of the bay window, his eyes trained on the dim scenery outside. She did not need to see his face to know it was George. Many a time had she come down stairs to find the twin sitting in the exact same spot he had claimed currently. Grabbing a soft blanket from the back of the couch, Hermione approached the red head, climbed up beside him and threw the blanket around both of their shoulders. "Hi Georgie," She breathed softly, grasping his hand in her own.

George said nothing, just simply turned his head to look at the petite brunette now sat beside him. He looked down at their entwined hands, an occurance that happened more and more often since the war. He looked back up at her, his blue eyes locking in on her own chocolate-brown ones. They sat like that for a few moments, each knowing exactly what the other was thinking. He smirked as he caught sight of the blue sweatshirt she was wearing, having seen it many times before. "It's mine you know," he told her whilst fingering the collar of the article of clothing with his free hand. His voice was raspy, clearly unused for a number of hours. "But it looks better on you," He decided, squeezing her hand.

They sat in silence for another while, waiting for the other to speak up first. They did not wait long though, before George's raspy voice once again broke the silence. " Dad and I are going at 11 to get him ready. It'd really like it if you came, you know, if you wanted?" He asked her, his voice neutral, but the tear rolling down his cheek betrayed him.

Whilst Fred had survived being crushed by the wall, he was in no fit state to look after himself, or come home for any length of time. Not yet, anyway. When he first woke up from his three week coma, he didn't know who George was. George took to his room that evening and did not come out for six days, unable to face anyone but Hermione, who would check on him every so often. The healers said that Fred had some degree of brain damage, and needed intensive care before coming home. That was in June, and almost six months later, he was finally allowed home. Even if for just one day.

And George was going to make sure it was a day Fred would remember, and took it upon himself to help Fred get home for good. But it left him drained, and in a cruel twist of fate the war had left him unable to sleep for fear when he woke up his twin would be gone. "Of course George," She whispered her reply before wrapping both her arms around the man beside her, holding as his body shook as he let go of months of unshed tears.

After a while, the sun was starting to rise, and Ginny Wealsey could be heard shouting "It's my wedding day!" At the top of her lungs. Smiling, Hermione let go of George and sat back from him , keeping a firm grip on his hand. He looked at her again, taking in her beauty as if he had just seen her for the first time. The truth was though that George had noticed her beauty years ago. But the war took over, and no matter how much he thought about her, he couldn't tell her or do anything about it.

Until now, that is.

"Hermione," He whispered softly as he pulled her towards him, "You're beautiful, you'll be the one I'll be watching all day. Not Ginny." And with that, he gently cupped her chin and brought his lips to hers, kissing her gently.

"Oi! You two! I'm the only one that can kiss someone today!" Came the excited squeals of Ginny Weasley as she bounded into the living room.

**Hope it was okay.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Computer Geek – Glad you liked my lovely! :)**

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**Chapter Six**

Hermione was heavily pregnant, eight and a half months pregnant to be exact. She couldn't wait for her baby to arrive, though she hadn't expected to have such a big bump. Ginny's baby bump was much smaller whenever she was expecting James, and Fleur's bump was even smaller when she was expecting Victoire. Regardless, she put her extra baby-weight down to the three very square meals that George fed her every day. It was past eleven, and she had just put her book down for the night when she heard her husband arrive home to their apartment over the flagship store in Diagon Alley. He had put her on bed rest until their child was born. He really would make a great father, it was a thought she often had.

"Hermione, love? Are you awake still? I'm just home! Sorry I'm so late, we were swamped at work today. Had to get Lee and Verity to help out when they closed up downstairs. Fred the lucky bugger only had to walk up a flight of steps and he was home, the apparition guards are playing up again down the Alley.."

George had been working non-stop all day, helping Fred restock their entire Hogsmede branch of WWW. They had underestimated the buying power of Hogwarts' students, particularly as yesterday was the first Hogsmede weekend of the school year. Their shelves had been completely emptied of stock, and George had spent the day doing following complex recipes and casting many charms and spells. He was thoroughly exhausted, and he wanted nothing more than to climb into bed beside his gorgeous wife.

As he walked into their bedroom, already having stripped from his work-robes and had his t-shirt off also, he stopped to take in the sight of the beauty before him. Pregnancy suited Hermione greatly, she really did have that "glow" he had so often heard is mother talk about whenever Ginny was pregnant two years ago. Her clear skin radiated in the dim light of the bedroom, causing her caramel brown hair to shimmer softly. Her eyes shone out to him, even if the room was quite dark, and he could not wait to have her lying in his arms, cradling her bump. Their babies would be here soon.

Yes. Babies. Plural. They were having twins, but only George was holding that knowledge. He had taken Hermione to the Healer in St Mungo's a few months earlier, as she needed to have diagnostic tests completed. The poor which had been run off her feet, what with work and god-mother/auntie commitments. The Healer had given her a Dreamless Sleep Potion to take, with the promise that George would be by her side when she woke and all tests would be completed. So when the Healer scanned his wife as she slept, and determined that there was in fact, another set of Weasley twins on the way he had sworn the kind Healer to secrecy. He wanted to surprise his wife, he just hadn't found the right time yet. He soon was in his nightwear, and in a matter of minutes he had all the lights in their apartment distinguished and had his wonderful wife drifting off to sleep beside him. "Goodnight, my babies," he softly crooned, running his hands over Hermione's bump.

"Babies?" Hermione quizzed sleepily, not quite sure she had heard her husband correctly in her near-slumbering state.

"Err.. yes, my babies, you and the bump." He told her, nearly caught out. At least by referring to "the bump" it meant he was addressing both his children, so neither would feel unloved. Because he loved them very much, even if they weren't here just yet.

"Oh.. Okay then, goodnight Georgie," She mumbled sleepily, contentedly sighing as he delicately kissed her forehead and promptly fell asleep.

George too sighed, both in relief and in content. He re-arranged his head on his pillow and closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to steal him into the night. He hadn't been asleep for very long though, whenever he felt a sharp blow to his ribcage and his name being frantically whispered. "Huh? Wazz'goin' on?" He asked, reaching for his wand to turn on the lights. He turned them on too brightly though, and when he opening his sleep-laden eyes he ended up dazzling himself. "'Mione, love? Is everything okay? What time is it?" He asked as he attempted opening his eyes again, to see his wife cradling her vast bump with a shocked expression on her face.

"George.. I think the baby's coming." She whispered, sounding very calm. She stood up slowly, the dark patch on their gold bedsheets and her grey sweatpants confirming that their baby would soon be making an appearance. She looked to George, a small smile creeping up both their faces as she walked to their closet and grabbed her pre-packed bag, ready for her stay in St. Mungo's.

He lifted his wand and magically transformed her sweatpants into a clean pair, and then through on the clothes he had been wearing just a few hours earlier. He stood up and walked towards Hermione, taking her free hand and gently kissing her on the lips. "You ready, love?" He asked and she shook her head in reply, though she still wore her smile. "Too late," He told her, kissing her on her nose. He took the overnight bag from her other hand and guided her to the fireplace. While he sent a patronus to his mother, his twin and Bill, she grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fireplace.. They soon arrived in St Mungo's shortly followed by the entire Weasley clan, including Harry and Ginny.

Hermione had been in labour for thirteen hours, and she was tiring very quickly. George was pacing around the delivery room, his nerves clearly showing. It was getting on Hermione's nerves. "George Fabian Weasley," She started in a low voice, which he immediatley new to be her angry voice. He had heard it many times before. "If you do not stop pacing, so help me I will personally make sure someone cuts your legs off." She managed to snarl before another wave of pain crashed over her.

Another four hours passed by and Hermione was finally able to start pushing. "Come on 'Mione, love, you can do it!" George encouraged her like the nurse instructed him too. "Come on, it can't be that hard! Just think of pushing a quaffle out!" He told her, and almost immediatley afterwards he felt himself being pulled towards his wife, her fist clenched tightly o the front of his shirt.

"Pushing.. A quaffle.. out?" She asked in between pants, her voice low again. "YOU TRY PUSHING A QUAFFLE OUT OF YOUR..!" She screamed before George could silence her with a kiss. He was acutely aware of how close their family was, the other side of the wall to be exact. He knew she would regret all she said, especially if they heard.

Fifteen laborious minutes labour, Jamie Neville Weasley arrived. "Isn't he gorgeous Georgie!" A tear stricken Hermione wept, a fuzz of auburn hair covered his head, and his brown eyes shone out to his father exactly like his mother's did. George almost cried at the sight, catching himself just in time to remember that another baby was due to arrive any minute, and now he could surprise his wife.

"Okay, Mrs Weasley, we'll bring twin number one back whenever his brother or sister arrives," the Healer at Hermione's lower end spoke, causing Hermione to gasp in shock.

"What do you mean twins?"

"Surprise love!" George told her meekly.

"GEORGE FABIAN WEASLEY! YOU KNOW WE WERE HAVING TWINS AND YOU DIDN'T THINK TO TELL ME! HOW COULD YO.. ARGHHH!"

Another wave of pain hit Hermione before she could finish and little over five minutes later, Lee Dean Wealsey was born, with an equal amount of auburn fuzz on his head and brown eyes to match his brother and mother.

After all the family had been to see the newest additions to the ever expanding Weasley clan, Hermione and George found themselves alone for the first time, cuddling their newborns. "They're perfect Hermione. We are the perfect little family." George cooed down at little Lee, who was gurgling as he stared up at his father.

"Georgie?" Hermione asked sweetly.

"Yes love," He replied, looking at his gorgeous wife, and now mother of his children.

"Pull that stunt again and I really will see to it that someone cuts your legs off." And with that, she and her two sons promptly fell asleep.

And so too did George, twenty hours later than planned. But it was worth every waking second.

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	7. Chapter 7

**To everyone that's reviewed, especially WerrnogWeasley96 and Computer Geek, I love you all :) but guys, I welcome prompts!**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Seven**

"MERLIN YOU ARE SO FRUSTRATING!"

"HA! YOU'RE ONE TO TALK!"

George and Hermione were in the middle of a fight, something that was happening more and more often as time went on, and generally as a result of something trivial. This time it was over whose turn it was to clean the bathroom.

Both put it down to the stress of work and other commitments, although Hermione was becoming increasingly frustrated that their relationship wasn't going anywhere. She didn't know where she stood with George. Was she "the one"? Or just something to keep him going? They had been together for three years, since the end of the war, and still no questioned had been popped.

"I'M GOING TO FRED'S!" George roared as he grabbed his coat from the hook on the door and lifted his wallet, throwing a furious glare in Hermione's direction when she snorted indignantly.

"OF COURSE, GO TO YOUR BROTHERS AND COMPLAIN ABOUT HOW AWFUL I MUST BE TO LIVE WITH AND HOW MUCH YOU MISS HIM! MAYBE I SHOULD MOVE OUT!" She roared in return, the volume of her tones equalling his. Thank Merlin they hand no neighbours. She turned on her heel and stormed to their bedroom, slamming the door just a millisecond after the front door slammed.

He was so bloody impossible! Why did she even love him? Did she even want to marry George?

Grabbing a sheet of parchment and her quill, that George had recently bought her incidentally, and sat down to make a list.

**Reasons why I shouldn't**

He was so messy. She hadn't even realised to what extent until she moved in last year after finishing her Healer training. Clothes were strewn everywhere, especially at his side of the bed. She had to practically lead him to the sink in order to get him to wash his dishes. And his wardrobe. She shuddered as she thought of the chaotic sight that lay hidden behind the sliding door to her right.

_But he always left his t-shirts on her pillow, so she could smell him when he wasn't there._

He was always pulling pranks. All the time. Even at the dinner table, whenever she had slaved for hours making him a Molly Weasley-esque feast, (or at least something along those lines) he would sneak Fainting Fancies into the meal. Or even worse, in bed. But she decided not to think about that.

_But she loved spontaneity. And George Weasley was king in that field._

Fred was his bit on the side. He didn't do anything without Fred in the know or being involved in some way. Even if they were twins, she felt left out.

_But some of the most romantic things he had done for her had been down to Fred as well._

He had a temper that matched hers, and a stubborn head to match. Even that annoyed her, that it was difficult to win an argument because neither backed down.

_But that just showed he wouldn't give up on her._

He was jealous. No other man could even look at her without him flexing his muscles and dragging her away somewhere, or standing in front of her.

_But that just showed how much he loved her, how she was his._

His stupid scruffy hair.

_That made him look gorgeous._

He was always so warm, and stole her bedsheets or crept into her side of the bed.

_But it meant she could cuddle up to him._

"Oh bugger." She sighed as she realised that he really was perfect, no matter how flawed he was. Grabbing the closet sweatshirt to her, she tugged it on and turned on the spot, concentrating deeply on Fred's Hogsmede apartment. "George? Fred? Twins?" She called.

"In here, 'Mione," She heard Fred's muffled voice call from the kitchen. She followed the sound, finding the red-head leaning over the kitchen counter, reading the Daily Prophet and cradling a cup of tea. "He's not here, love. Left about ten minutes ago, said he was going back to the apartment?" He told her, not lifting his head to see her turn on the spot again as she sighed frustratedly. Once he heard the familiar crack, he smiled smugly to himself before taking a long sip of tea.

Landing in her living room, bracing herself for another argument, Hermione was left speechless. The usually bright room was lit only with the soft glow of candles, hundreds of them dotted around the room. Soft music was playing in the background as she caught sight of her boyfriend sitting on the sofa, wearing a shirt and tie, which he was not wearing when he stormed out. "George.. what is.. what?" She managed to splutter out, completely caught off-guard.

"Come here, Miney," He said softly, smiling as she grimaced at the nickname. She hated being called that, except when he said it softly like he did now. She stumbled over, taking in the sight around her as she sat on the sofa, holding George's hand.

He gently kissed her on the lips, wiping away the lone tear tailing down her cheek as the guilt of their argument over-whelmed her. "Geor.." She started become her placed a finger on her lips, silencing her. He slid down off the sofa and onto one knee, taking Hermione's left hand in his own.

"Hermione Jean Granger. Not even Gilderoy Lockhart could tell the world how much I love you," He smiled as she rolled her eyes at his remark.

"You are an incredible, gorgeous witch and nothing would make me, or mum, happier than you becoming my wife," He said, earning a giggle.

"Ever since I laid my eyes on you ten years ago, I knew you were special. You would go on to do great things, achieve whatever you wanted. But ever since I laid my eyes on you three years ago, whenever we went to the lake on that memorable summer's night, I knew you were just more than something special. You were the one." He spoke softly, keeping eye contact with her the whole time as he reached into his trouser pocket, taking out a purple velvet box. "Will you do me the honour, and marry me?" He asked, smiling as her eyes fluttered down to the ring.

A silver band, with a fiery red stone set in a circle in the middle, with small diamonds either side, nestling the tourmaline.

Nodding fiercely, unable to speak as a result of her overwhelming emotions, Hermione leapt towards her now fiancée and kissed him lovingly, both of them forgetting about every single fight and dreaming of their future.

**Hope you liked. :)**

**Anyone want to see the ring?**

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**(Remove all the spaces)**

**Made me think of the Weasley's hair! Please review! :***


	8. Chapter 8

**Thank you all for your reviews! :-)**

**This one's for you Computer Geek ;-)**

**Enjoy! :-)**

**Chapter Eight**

George woke with a start, chasing away the end of his nightmare, the blanket that had once been covering the length of his body now lying beside him on the floor. Reaching out to get it, he caught sight of the clock on the fireplace. It was half two in the morning, and he estimated he dozed off around ten. George sighed to himself as he sat up, his brain darkly pointing out that he wouldn't be nightmare free for some time.

Seeing all the paperwork on the coffee table in front of him, he remembered that he fell asleep whilst going through it. It was always Fred's job to do it, but he wasn't fit to do it any more. He was brain damaged, they had said at St Mungo's, meaning Fred needed to learn how to walk, talk, read and write again. It was heartbreaking to say the least for George, to see his twin in such ways. He went to see his twin every day after work. He was exhausted, but Hermione had been his rock through it all.

Giving up on paper work and trying to get back to sleep, he got off the sofa and shuffled to the kitchen with the intention of making some tea. Ever since she had moved in, Hermione had George hooked on camomile tea. He found that it calmed him, if only for an hour or two. Five minutes later he had two steaming cups of tea and was headed back to his bedroom.

He had extended the flat whenever Hermione moved in, renovating the unused loft space and connecting a staircase from the end of the corridor, beside his room. She had stepped up to the plate and took as much as she could of Fred's workload whenever they had found out the extent of his injuries, meaning she often fell asleep on the sofa doing paperwork. He had done it tonight, an early birthday gift, he had told her, and she gratefully accepted his offer and went to bed early. It made sense to ask her to move in, and Mrs Weasley hadn't objected too much, surprisingly. It was now September, and the rush of the summer holidays and post-War excitement had died down. But the paperwork hadn't. He needed her help, but he was wary of how tired she was.

He also knew that the more tired she was, the more likely she was to have a nightmare. Though they were more like night terrors, they left her screaming and terrified for most of the night. He had a feeling tonight would be one of those nights.

He entered his room for a moment, just to change into a pair of sweats and an old t-shirt. Grabbing the Advanced Charms book he was currently studying, he levitated the cups and made his way upstairs to Hermione's room. She had the most comfortable armchair that George always found himself sitting in when he was in her room. He caught sight of the small brunette tangled within her bedsheets, her wild curls splayed all over her pillow. It's started, he thought darkly to himself.

Sure enough, no later than ten minutes after George had settled into the armchair, painful moans escaped the sleeping girl's lips. George shuddered, knowing from experience he wouldn't be able to waken her until the worst of the nightmare was over. And like all the other times, he felt a painful tug in his heart that he couldn't stop her from reliving the torture caused by Bellatrix Lestrange.

"No..Nooo..Please.." She moaned. George knew when the talking started things were going to worsen, and soon.

He got up from the chair and settled down beside Hermione, lying behind her and gently looping hands hands around her wrists to stop her from scratching herself in her fear. He pressed his nose against her caramel coloured hair and inhaled the scent of her apple shampoo, readying himself for the forthcoming event. As expected, it didn't take long.

"NOO! PLEASE!" She roared and squirmed in George's arms. He knew she was screaming as she imagined Bellatrix carving the word "mudblood" into her skin, writhing in pain as she did so. The screaming continued for about five minutes, until she sounded hoarse, tears streaming down from her still-closed eyes.

George simply stroked her arms, whispering in her ear. "It's okay 'Mione, come on love, wake up. It's not real, not any more, please wake up.." He whispered over and over, waiting for her brain to trigger and cause her to wake up.

Moments later, her body shook as she full out sobbed, realising what had happened. George pulled her up with him, cradling her in his arms. "Mione? You're alright love.." He whispered as her eyes fluttered open and she looked at him, his face ashen. He really did hate when she had nightmares, it panicked him when he could not waken her. She promptly dissolved into more tears and he moved to the armchair, dragging her duvet with them.

"Shhhh love, it's okay, I'm here now.." He reassured her, his arm wrapped round her neck in a one armed hug, his other hand trailing up and down her back as she cried into his shoulder. Once she had calmed down considerably, he handed her the second cup of tea, which he had kept warm with a warming charm. She took a long sip, her hand still shaking and sighed deeply afterwards.

She then looked up at George, her eyes still glassy from her tears as she remembered her nightmare, but also at George's lack of sleep on her part. "You don't have to do this you know? As much as I appreciate it, you need your sleep Georgie." She said softly.

George laughed gently as he lifted her in his arms and carried her back to her bed, laying the both of them down and under the blanket. "I do have to, I want to help you and hold you, protect you as much as possible. Because I love you Hermione." He whispered and placed a gentle kiss on her lips, before pulling her close to him for a cuddle.

They fell asleep in each other's arms, and not a nightmare was to be had.

**Hope you liked!**

**Ps prompts are welcome! :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**To anyone who may have read my fic "****_Those Weasley Ears_****" I actually haven't a clue how it managed to get deleted. I'm gutted to say the least. However when I finish my Hunger Games fic I will start a new HP fic, changing the ship to Fred and Hermione.**

**Back to George and Hermione though, hope you like :-)**

**Chapter Nine**

George was beginning to fret. It was nearing midnight and he had been given a punishment essay by Snape that day, due after breakfast the next morning before the Second Task started. It wasn't the first time this had happened over his six years at Hogwarts. The problem was that he had allowed himself to be way-laid by the rest of the Gryffindor students' excitability, providing an excellent opportunity to cause mayhem by offering students their now-complete Ton-Tongue Toffees.

Smirking at the memory of Harry's cousin eating one during the summer, he slumped in his chair trying to think of something to write. Fred had gone to bed early, the bugger. He was the better of the two at potions, if he had of been here George would have been finished already. Sighing, he picked up his quill.

Ten minutes passed and the only writing on the page was the ridiculous subject title he had been given, "Common Uses of Felix Felicis and The Repercussions of It's Misuse." Sighing once more, he scanned the empty common room for Hermione, or her Advanced Potions textbook.

She was usually up this late, trying to help Harry with his egg dilemma. The trio had departed to the library after dinner in an attempt to help a totally clueless Harry in some way for tomorrow and to George's knowledge they hadn't returned. He was sure they hadn't, for if they had he no doubt would have heard the latest heated argument between Hermione and his brother.

He looked up as he heard the gentle creaking of the portrait door opening, hoping Hermione had arrived and would help him. But the only figure that emerged was that of Harry, looking thoroughly exhausted and stressed. George felt sorry for the younger boy, always seeming to get himself in trouble. But he too shared a part of Ron's earlier feelings of jealousy. The thousand galleon prize money was just what Fred and he needed to open their joke shop, especially after Bagman conned them out of their life savings. But he did not envy Harry, he would be even worse prepared than the raven-haired boy.

"Hello George," he greeted dully, sheer misery lacing his voice. "Still not got that essay done?" He smirked catching sight of the screwed up balls of parchment littering George's surroundings.

"Nope." George replied, popping his lips on the P. "I was hoping Hermione would help me but I haven't seen her all night. Or Ron for that matter. Are they still in the library?" He asked, noticing a worried gleam in Harry's eyes as he took the chair next to him.

"No, Moody said Dumbledore wanted them in his office for something, I thought they would have been back by now." He said, sounding glum. A silence fell between them until Harry spoke again. "Why don't you just use an Auto-Answer Quill mate?"

"I knew there was a reason why Ronniekin's was friends with you Potter!" George almost exploded, one half of him thankful for the suggestion and the appeal of getting to bed quicker, the other half thoroughly annoyed with himself that his sharp brain hadn't thought of this first. Summoning a quill from his stash of Zonko's merchandise that he kept under his bed, he returned Harry's sentiment of goodnight and was in his bed no less than fifteen minutes later. Smiling to himself as he settled into a sleeping position, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of nerves in his stomach, particulary as he caught sight of the picture still to his wall of him and Hermione, taken at The Yule Ball. He had danced with her twice that night. He wanted to ask her to be his date, but Krum got there first. Sighing, he rolled over. The trio were always caught in the middle of something, and George couldn't help but feel they were about to get caught again and soon. Pushing his worry aside, he was soon asleep, softly snoring in co-ordination with his twin in the next bed.

There was still no sign of either Ron or Hermione at breakfast, and George's feelings of unease returned. Even as he and Fred stood taking bets at the sidelines before the task began, he still couldn't see them. Climbing up into the spectator's stand, he watched on as Dumbledore explained the task. Understanding washed over him and Fred simultaneously, both exhaling sharply as they realised.

"They're in the lake Freddie." He gulped, fearing for his brother and her safety.

An hour and more passed when finally Hermione broke through the surface of the lake, her slim body encircled by the strong arm of Viktor Krum. George clenched his jaw, angry that Hermione was the thing most dear to him. Why hadn't they used a sibling, or his broomstick for Merlin's sake! He felt Fred nudge him, telling him to calm down and led the way down to the lakeside.

Sometime later, Harry emerged, not only with Ron but with who only could be Fleur's younger sister in tow. They raced to check on their younger brother, making sure he was okay and teasing Harry some for going the extra mile to save mini-Fleur. George looked over at Hermione, who had been checked by Madame Pomfrey and was sitting beside Krum, a Pepper-Up Potion in her hand.

It was when Krum reached up to stroke Hermione's hair when George felt a surge of jealousy appear from nowhere and stormed over, dropping to his knees in front of Hermione. "See Granger," he said as he took the now empty cup from her hands, "This is why you should be best friends with Gred and I. No risk of being thrown in a lake with us!" He said cheerfully, throwing Krum a glare.

"I should go and find Karkaroff. I vill hope to see you later, Herm-own-ninny?" Krum asked, gaining a nod and a whispered thank-you in response.

"Thank Merlin you're okay, Herm-own-ninny," George said, pulling a goofy face as he mocked Krum, earning a punch in the arm from the girl in front of him. "Oi!" He shouted indignantly, "I was serious!" He told her, pouting.

"Really?" The brunette asked quietly. She was now shivering, the crisp February air nipping at her.

"Of course I was," He told her sweetly as he helped her to her feet and towards the boats to take her back to the castle. "I need you to help me with my Potions homework, don't I?" He told her coyly, earning a giggle.

The truth was though, George didn't just need her for her brains. He needed her because he loved her. He just didn't know it yet.

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	10. Chapter 10

**Everyone wish me good luck, I'll tell you why next update!:)**

Enjoy!

**Chapter Ten**

George could never understand the need for dress robes. The mere thought of putting on layer after layer of hot, itchy clothing made him shudder; so it was with a heavy heart did he and his twin, alongside Ron and Harry, drag themselves away from the frivolity of the snowball fight they had been having and got appropriately suited up for the Yule Ball.

"Tonight is the night Georgie boy, that Angelina Johnson will accept the honorary title of 'Fred Weasley's Girlfriend', should it all go to plan." His twin exclaimed as he pranced around in his many shirts and perfectly tied bow-tie, a mere pair of boxers shielding the world from his lower half. Boxers, in particular, that were covered in what could only be described as a hideous floral pattern, consisting of green, purple and orange splodges.

"Not if she catches sight of those boxers, you prat!" George muttered frustratedly, his numerous attempts at tying his own tie having failed. He didn't even know where his wand was, no doubt hidden beneath the large pile of robes remaining on his bed. "Freddie,"He moaned, "Be a dear and please help me,", giving up on the ridiculously unnecessary item of clothing.

"Ooh lovey, moan any louder and people may wonder what we get up to in her!" Fred laughed, bounding over to his brother as he tried to pull on his trousers at the same time, the result of the two tasks ending in both twins on the floor. "Oi George, ger'off me!" He shouted indignantly, when in fact George was pinned under his brother.

"Fred you prat, get off! I need my tie done or Katie will be up her looking to know why I'm late!" He shouted, frustration evident in his voice. He didn't even know why he was taking bloody Katie Bell to the Ball. The poor girl was obsessed with the twins, namely George. However, it was unrequited love on his behalf. Every Christmas, Valentine's Day, birthday and Halloween he would receive a box of pink Sugar Quills, which incidentally were his favourite, which he fed to the House elves whenever he was up late in the Common Room.

See House Elves loved Sugar Quills, and were immune to Love Potions; George however, was not.

"I wonder who Ronniekins and Potty are taking?" George asked absent mindedly as Fred pulled him to his feet and proceeded in tying his twin's tie.

"Harry told me earlier, the Patil twins apparently. I knew Ron had a thing for twins," Fred smirked as he finished the tie, slapping his brother on the arse as he walked past, earning an indignant 'Oi you git' From George. "Although I did always think he had a thing from Granger," He said thoughtfully a few minutes later, as he slapped some aftershave on.

George paused at this. He had thought so too. "Yeah, but Granger's got a date hasn't she?" He said, knowing full well she had a date.

"So we hear Georgie, but I'll wait and see for myself," Fred said as he smirked and left his brother to finish getting ready, "Probably a book!" He called behind him.

"Not funny, Fred," George muttered darkly.

* * *

"Oh George! You're finally ready! I've been waiting ages, do you know how rude that is to keep som.." Katie shrieked at her date, causing him to flinch as he descended the final few steps into the Common Room.

"You look lovely too Katie, now shall we go?" He said dejectedly, already resigning himself to a night of torture. She smiled brilliliantly at his half hearted comment and took his proffered arm as they left the room and walked quickly towards the Great Hall.

As they walked, he wondered to himself who Hermione had chosen as her date. It wasn't Ron, or Harry. Or Neville, as he was taking Ginny. And Seamus was taking Lavender. So who then?

Maybe someone from the library? There could be more than one reason as to why she spent all her time there, aside from books. Smiling to himself at the thought of Hermione allowing anyone to desecrate the sacred library, he had to stifle a laugh.

"What's so funny?" Katie asked as she heard his fake cough, Is there something on my dress? My hair? My face?!" She almost shrieked again as George continued to laugh, the thoughts in his head amusing him greatly.

"Come on, we're going to be late!" Katie huffed as she withdrew her arm from around his and stormed ahead, stopping several yards later to retake his arm in her own and pout attractively to him. Or so, what he probably imagined she thought was attractive. Merlin, girls are twisted, he thought to himself.

* * *

"Oh when are they going to open the bloody doors? My feet hurt already and I promised Cormac McLaggen I'd dance with him.." Katie huffed as she bounced from one foot to another, impatience radiating from her.

George still hadn't seen Hermione, and Harry had been ushered off by McGonagall earlier on as he was to dance as a Champion. Ron and Ginny had migrated with their dates to where George now stood with his twin. "Any of you lot seen Hermione?" Ron asked as he plucked a loose thread from his dress robes. Poor soul, George thought.

"No, why would we? She's probably holed up in the library with a book instead of being normal." Katie snorted at her own scenario, finding something incredibly funny. All the present Weasleys and their dates glared at the witch, finding her statement rather rude. Fred and Ron may tease her, but in terms of it all, she was family. It was different when others did it.

"Katie do you have to be so blo.." George started, when the doors finally opened and the four Champions gracefully walked past, three couples basking in the glory. Fleur Delacour led the procession, a smug looking Roger Davies hanging on her arm. Viktor Krum followed, his date currently hidden by his bulky frame, though she would soon come into sight. Cedric Diggory and Cho followed, ending with Harry and the other Patil twin. He could never tell them apart, bloody twins.

As they swam through the crowd, a petite brunette was seen to be accompanying Krum as she daintily followed his lead. Her hair was sleek and tied up in a neat chignon atop of her head, a few loose tendrils framing her delicate face. Her periwinkle robes glistened under the twinkling lights of the castle, and her envious figure was on display, her expertly falling robes accentuating her every curve.

"Bloody hell! Is that..!" Ron whispered.

"Hermione," George breathe, shock filling every inch of his body.

"What's she doing with Krum?" Katie huffed, folding her arms and looking a second away from stomping her foot like a spoilt child.

Of course, someone as brilliant as Hermione would accompany someone as brilliant as Krum. He was an international Quidditch player, for Merlin's sakes, world renowned! And what could George Weasley ever do in comparison but pull pranks?

A part of him felt happy for the brunette, that she was finally coming out of her shell a bit. The other part of him wanted to turn and walk away, spent the entire night in the Common Room instead of seeing her this happy with someone else.

But when she caught his eye, and smiled the smile she reserved only for him, his heart melted a little, and he followed her inside with the crowd.

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	11. Chapter 11

_Sorry it's been a while! _

_Driving tests (finally passed!) / Fights with friends / being dumped / school gets in the way!_

_Enjoy!_

**Chapter Eleven**

"I'm not wearing it. I'm sorry Mione, I know you can't resist a bit of role play with yours truly but I am not wearing this!" George stood in front of the mirror in their bedroom, his hands on his hips as huffed like a petulant child, his lower lip jutting out. Unless Hermione was mistaken he would soon stomp his foot like a child too. Laughing gently to herself as she saw his left leg lift slightly, she walked over to him and stood behind him, her arms wrapping around his middle as she placed a kiss on his neck. She ran her hands up and down his torso, feeling his taut muscles beneath the silky material of his outfit.

It was Halloween morning, and a few days prior Victoire Weasley had decided that everyone was to dress up as a fairy including her father and uncles. George thought it was highly convenient that Harry and Ron had been assigned a week-long mission in the south west of Ireland hunting out rogue wizards; and Charlie was busy monitoring a soon-to-be-hatched dragon egg, and Percy was exempt too because he had a 'highly important meeting' to attend. Which left George and Bill to the four-year-old's mercy.

"Why the bloody hell does Bill get to wear trousers and Fred and I are stuck wearing bloody tights!" George huffed as he turned around to face his newly-wed, growling slightly as he felt her chuckle.

"Vic's already told you, Georgie. Bill is the Fairy King, he's allowed to wear trousers. You however just aren't manly enough it seems." She teased, her hand ready to slap his backside only to meet numerous layers of tutu material.

"Not manly enough, eh?" He asked the witch in his arms, smirking as he saw the smile drop from her face as she noticed the mischievous glint in his eyes. "Sure about that love?" He asked as he proceeded to walk forwards, eventually trapping her between his body and the wall, his arms braced either side of her. "Weren't saying that last night, were you?" He teased, lowering his head to gain access to her neck, placing gentle kisses below her ear and along her jawline.

He had a fluffy hairband resting in his ginger hair, the feathers tickling the back of Hermione's neck as he moved to kiss her shoulder. She reached up and gently freed him of the novelty headwear before tangling her hands in his hair, urging him to keep caressing her.

He loved it when she did this. He loved the smell of her hair as it tumbled down her back, causing a cloud of cinnamon shampoo to fill his senses. He loved her warm skin as he felt it under his lips, the flow of blood pulsating beneath them as he placed tender kisses, tasting her all-so-familiar taste. He loved how when he kissed the spot just above her right collarbone she would moan slightly, and in a matter of moments she would be all over him.

"George..." She breathed as he nibbled the very spot, his hands trailing their way down so that they rested on her hips, kneading them gently the way he knew she liked. He loved when she had that breathy quality to her voice; he knew the desire was evident in the way she spoke his name before he even looked in her eyes. Smiling crookedly, he raised his head so he was at eye level with her.

"Yes, love?" He asked because he captured her lips in a passionate kiss, not giving her the chance to respond. Reaching down slightly to hook his hands behind her knees, he lifted her so that she could wrap her legs around his waist and carried her to the bed, sighing in relief as his wife freed him of the ridiculously fluorescent pink fairy outfit.

He'd show her manly.

* * *

"You stay here," Hermione told her costume-clad husband as they approached the back door of The Burrow, "And I'll make sure Victoire's ready to see you." She smiled as she entered the kitchen, eager for the upcoming reaction, trying to hold back the peal of laughter threatening to escape as she looked back at the fairy behind her.

"Hello everyone," She greeted as she came into the Weasley's living room, smiling at everyone as she walked over to Molly and placed a kiss on her mother in-law's cheek. "Vic, shall I go get Uncle Georgie? He dressed up especially for you!" She told the girl excitedly, smiling as she saw the young girl's eyes brighten at the prospect of seeing her 'favourite' uncle dressed up.

"George!" She called through the door, loud enough for him to hear. Soon enough, she heard his low grumbling voice, and saw him trying to adjust his tights into a more comfortable fashion. He looked up and saw her sitting there, and her mind cast back to the morning's activities. Blushing, she turned her head away and winked at everyone in the room.

"TAH-DAH!" George shouted as he burst through the living room door in full fairy glory; the small beads of glitter Hermione had charmed to his costume exploding open and releasing their contents whilst his wings slowly changed colour.

It wasn't until almost all the laughter subsided did George realise that Harry, Ron, Bill, Percy and indeed Charlie were all sat before him, properly clothed and clutching their stomachs from the onslaught of laughter. Victoire remained sat on the floor before her mother, her eyes glistening with mirth at the sight of her silly uncle.

Turning his head slowly so that he could look at his wife, he threw her a murderous glare as she tried to stop her giggling before launching himself towards her, arms poised ready to tickle her to the death.

_Hope you liked! :-)_


	12. Chapter 12

**So yeah. It's been a while.**

**Life has been hectic. That is all :-)**

**Chapter Twelve**

I lifted my head to the west just in time to see the late October sun start its descent in the sky. A soft wind rustled the leaves above my head, causing a light shower of brown and red foliage to flutter down to earth. Autumn was my favourite season, no other time of the year could compete with it in my opinion. There was something mystifying about seeing the leaves on the trees change colour; so quickly as if it were happening overnight, going from green to orange to brown, with every shade in between making an appearance. I stretched and lifted the closest leaf to me, inspecting it closely as if it were holding the secret to life in its thin tissue. It was a deep shade of orange, bordering on russet, its delicate structure crunching slightly under my grasp. I timed it so that when I threw it up in the air, another gust of wind caught it and carried it to the lake, landing without a sound on the shimmering surface of the watery expanse. It was safe to say, the Black Lake was my favourite place at Hogwarts.

Many people would be shocked if they knew that. Most thought my favourite place was the library. Indeed I do love the library, it's familiar smell of century old books and slowly burning candles, the peaceful silence only broken by the scratching of a quill on parchment or the flick of a page. But the lake was the most magical thing about Hogwarts. The calming lap of the water as it hit the stony shore soothed me, even when in the most angry of moods. Its salty scent tangled with the freshness of the air was as inviting as the smell of book pages.

Of course, one couldn't forget the actual magic that existed in the depths of the lake; the squid made an appearance every so often, although the lower the temperature fell the lower the squid delved to in the lake. From what Harry told us after the Triwizard Tournament, there's quite a collection in the lake, from Merpeople to Grindylows and Merlin knows what else. I ducked out of the way as a few dragonflies shot past me, anxious that none got caught in my hair. I learned that lesson the hard way in my first year after I managed to get three of the buggers tangled in my hair in one go. Once they had passed, I gathered the stack of parchment that was strewn across my lap and tidied it before leaning back and resting against the tree trunk behind me, closing my eyes as I did so.

"Professor Granger! To what do I owe this pleasure?" I heard a familiar voice ask as the person approached not long after I had closed my eyes. I did not have to re-open them to know it was one of my best friends, the very one who had gone to Romania in July for 'research purposes', according to Fred and him.

"I could ask you the same thing Mr Weasley! On Hogwarts grounds, without permission from the Headmistress I presume! No letter to even announce your homecoming! Some might call that trespassing you know!" I replied, my voice mockingly stern.

"Some might, but I think we both know both McGonagall and her deputy headmistress would forgive me this once, don't we?" George replied, his voice sounding light and cheery. But I could detect something beneath it, a sadness of sorts, guilt maybe. He was trying hard to hide it though, that much I could say for certain.

I opened my eyes and saw the red-haired man standing before me, smiling softly as I nodded my head and rolled my eyes teasingly. He loved calling me by my newly attained title. I patted the ground beside me before casting a second cushioning charm over the area. He sat and put his arm around me, a gesture I had become increasingly used to over the years. It was comforting, and elicited a soft sigh from my lips. I forgot just how at ease George Weasley made me feel until moments like this. "Hello Georgie," I murmured as I rested my head into the crook of his neck.

"Hello Mione," He whispered as he squeezed me gently, the action sending waves of comfort throughout my body. We sat in silence for a time, for just how long I don't know. The sun had more or less set by the time he spoke again. "What happened?" He asked softly, the question I had known he was going to ask sooner or later. Of course Ginny wouldn't have told him anything other than what I had asked her to say. That things were over between Oliver and I. Had been since the end of August.

I sighed deeply, trying to process the thoughts in my head. Where did I even begin? How could I tell him about how incredibly wrong I was, and so very right he was?

"He cheated on me. For just how long I do not know. With whom, I don't know either. But it doesn't matter, the evidence stands and I told him to leave. Chucked his bloody ring at his head too. Transfigured all his stuff into field mice and let it all loose in a field in Devon. Not that he would care, the bloody git can afford to replace it all anyway. Just like he replaced me, right when I thought everything was pulling together nicely! A month George! A bloody month to our wedding!" I huffed, tears threatening to fall as my anger rose the longer I spoke of my ex-fiancé. But I wouldn't cry any more, I promised myself that much.

I sat silently fuming, hearing George inhale deeply, a sign that I knew meant he was preparing to say something. My instincts told me I wasn't going to like it, that what he was about to say was something along the lines of "I told you so" . His hand gripping onto my shoulder also alerted me to the fact he was angry too, the steadily increasing pressure indicating his own anger was growing and matching mine. I held my breath in anticipation for the lecture I was expecting.

"I know who it was with Mione." He muttered, the sadness I had detected earlier evolving into bitterness. Before I could ask, he continued. "I had the misfortune to walk into my own bloody bedroom and saw the git with Katie, in my bed." He spat out the last few words, his anger even more evident in the tight set of his jaw, and the glare he was giving the small black box he had produced from his pocket some time in the last few minutes. "I was going to propose on her birthday, back in July. That's really why I left for a bit, to get away." He tailed off, throwing the box into the lake as his voice shook with pain and sadness, no longer dominated by anger.

Time passed again, and before I realised it the moon was halfway up the sky, and our cheeks were stained with the tears of heartbreak and betrayal as our hands intertwined. "Mione?" George asked, a strange tone to his otherwise raspy voice.

"Yes, my lovely?" I answered, turning my head to face him and lifting my other hand to his cheek, catching the stray tear that had escaped moments previously.

"I have a proposition, if you would care to listen?" He asked, a coy smile gracing his face. The sight of it instantly alleviated the pain in my heart, the heaviness lifted as I felt the same swooping feeling I always did when I saw him smile at me like that.

"I have to you and Fred a million times before, I'm not interested in helping you with your products if I have no guarantee that my students won't use them against me," I teased, knowing the proposition wasn't anything to do with the shop. I nodded for him to go on, feeling the corners of my lips turn up even more as I saw him roll his eyes dramatically.

"We'll get you on board some day Granger, mark my words! No, what I was going to propose was this. I'm thirty-one, I'm in my prime and at present, a newly found bachelor. You're dare I say it, just turned thirty and flirty now that that git's out of the picture. I say, in five years time, if neither of us are married, we get married. That way, we both benefit, were I can have Hermione Granger, Golden Trio member, Transfiguration professor and Deputy Headmistress of Hogwarts as my wife, and you get the better looking Weasley twin as your husband!" His smile was brilliant, shining in the bright moonlight.

My heart melted at the sweet gesture, and in that moment I pictured the last twelve years. George and I had grown exceptionally close, especially after Ron and I had broken up after a few short months. He had always been a shoulder to cry on, a hand t hold, had made me laugh during the darkest days, when the pain from the war would re-emerge and present its ugly head. It the grand scheme of things, I couldn't picture a happier outcome, as ridiculous as the plan was.

But you can't plan how to fall in love with someone, it just happens as you get to know the person. When you got to know their favourite colour, what makes them tick, how loud they snore during the night, see fireworks and feel butterflies when they kiss you. George's favourite colour was red, and he hated when people used poor grammar. It really wound him up when people slurped their tea. And he snored exceptionally loudly, day and night. But what did I know about his kissing?

Did I love George?

"So Mione, is that a no?" He asked, his smile faltering a bit, obviously my pause was throwing him off.

I didn't answer. Instead, I reached up and pressed my lips softly to his, feeling him jump slightly in shock. Before I could pull away, he placed a hand behind my head, securing me in place as his lips moulded to mine.

The fireworks were amazing.

And so was our wedding, 18 months later.

**Not sure about this, let me know what you think!**


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